


Too Far

by Emachinescat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU Episode Tag, Angst, Drama, Episode: s04e08 Lamia, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Arthur, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1264390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU tag to 'Lamia'. How far is too far? Looking at the bloody, battered form on the cold, stone floor, with Lamia's green eyes focused hungrily upon the weary men, the knights realized that this time, they might have crossed the line. Enchanted or not, they've gone too far. 4x08</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Leon wasn't sure who started throwing punches first.

Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew what had just happened.

He and the knights had been tense all day – so much so that he and Gwaine had actually begun to exchange blows in the middle of camp – and besides the small quarrels that had broken out amongst themselves, most of their anger seemed to be focused on the two servants with them. Well, the servant and the future queen, but at the moment, Leon couldn't bring himself to care that the woman was his future ruler. Neither she nor Merlin seemed to understand what a precious treasure Lamia was, and neither tried to protect her like the others were.

Just as well. Leon didn't want anyone else trying to take care of  _his_  Lamia. That's why he and Gwaine had attacked each other. Neither one could stand the thought of the other trying to steal Lamia away from him. It wasn't Lamia's fault. She couldn't help that she was so perfect and beautiful, that she needed to be protected.

But Merlin and Gwen didn't understand that. They looked at her funny sometimes, with suspicion or doubt in their eyes. And the way Lamia had shrieked when Merlin had touched her… Leon had shuddered. He didn't want that  _servant_  anywhere  _near_  Lamia.

Gwen, though, for the most part, had tended to keep her mouth shut, even if her eyes said she didn't agree. She'd spoken out a time or two, but not like  _Merlin_. And that is why the knights were basically content to leave her be. But Merlin wouldn't leave them alone, wouldn't leave Lamia alone, and wouldn't leave them alone  _about_  Lamia. He had to be able to see that he was pinching a nerve – a very,  _very_  raw nerve – considering the threats and occasional shove sent his way, but he just wouldn't stop.

And then, soon after they had built up camp in the castle, after Lamia had disappeared and they were about to split up and search for her, Merlin opened his big mouth  _again._  And this time, no one had been able to control their anger.

"Leon, Percival, Gwaine, you  _have_  to listen to me!" Merlin had nearly shouted, the insolent _servant!_  "Remember the sickness, the dying people back in the village? Remember why we came here in the first place? I told you something magical was going on; that an enchantment was behind it, but you wouldn't listen! I'm telling you, it's  _her!_ "

"Merlin." Gwen's voice was frightened, hesitant. She was trying to warn him to keep his mouth shut.

_Listen to her, Merlin._

He didn't.

" _Lamia_  is behind this! She's controlling you all, making you fight! She made Elyan sick and she'll be going after you next. We have to get out of here  _now_ , get Elyan back to Camelot. What will Arthur say when he –  _oomph!_ "

Leon still wasn't sure if it was him, Gwaine, or Percival that hit Merlin first because they all lashed out at basically the same time. The anger filled every inch of his being, seething throughout his skin and bones, rushing through his bloodstream, causing his heart to pump faster. He wasn't himself anymore, his vision went green as the fury took over him, and if he had been in his right mind, he might have realized that he was under a powerful enchantment. But, of course, being under a powerful enchantment, he was nowhere  _near_  being in his right mind.

The others were the same. There were sounds of flesh hitting flesh, cries of pain, and Gwen's voice screamed out over the group. "Stop it!  _Please, Leon! Gwaine! Percival! STOP IT!_ "

Someone's hand grabbed onto his arm, pulling desperately to get him away from Merlin. Leon shoved Gwen away harshly. In the middle of the circle of knights, Merlin moaned pitifully, bleeding from a busted nose, eyes swollen, and lip cut. He fell to the ground, curling in on himself as his 'friends' advanced upon him, this time kicking as well as hitting. Merlin's moans grew softer until they disappeared altogether.

When the knights finally backed away, his chest was barely rising and bruises and cuts covered every inch of visible skin. Leon expected to feel accomplished and proud, like he usually did when defeating a monster or a bandit, but instead, he just felt hollow inside as he looked upon the trembling, unconscious form of Merlin, a man that Arthur trusted, that he had befriended, that he had  _attacked_.

Oh, gods.

_He had attacked._

For Lamia. He had to remember that.

Lamia.

"What the… hell?"

At Gwaine's exclamation, Leon looked up to see the most terrifying, chilling sight. Lamia stood before them, a twisted, cruel, satisfied smile on her once-pretty face. As they watched, her back arched, teeth elongated, clothing ripped as her body grew, and her skin began to turn a sickening green color. Two piercing eyes glowed out from the midst of a hoard of tentacles and a terrible growling sound escaped her – its – lips.

Leon glanced down at Merlin, who had just begun to stir, and all of a sudden what they had done to him came into clear focus. They had gone  _too far._

That was the last thought that flew through Leon's mind before he himself was soaring across the room with the help of a strong tentacle flying into his face. Regret filled every bit of his being and he could hear the shocked cries of the knights and a loud, piercing scream from Guinevere before he lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin couldn't remember ever hurting this much in his life. He'd been injured before; after all, one couldn't have been King Arthur's personal manservant for going on seven years without getting scrapes and cuts and bruises all over oneself. He'd gotten tossed around a bit by the magical beings he'd tried to stop; had even been hit in the chest by a mace, but this… this was something entirely new altogether.

As he came back to consciousness, the radiating, all-consuming  _pain_  was all he could think about. He couldn't even remember, at first, how he had wound up on the cold, hard floor in an unfamiliar castle, blood dripping out of his nose and mouth and every part of his battered body screaming mercilessly with each ragged breath he took. What had happened?

Slowly, his senses began to return to him. He heard a snarl, yelling, the clanging of swords. His eyes inched open just in time to see a blur of clanking silver being thrown across the room. There was a loud thud as the knight – it seemed to be Leon – crashed into the wall and slid to the floor in a lump. Merlin heard the yells of the other knights as they fought the foe Merlin hadn't caught sight of yet. For some reason, the sound of the men sent chills of pure fear up Merlin's bruised spine and he fought not to pass out again from the pain. There was a growl, a yelp, and then Percival was tumbling across the floor to land in a heap beside Leon.

Merlin struggled mightily and finally managed to lift himself up partially, propping his nearly dead weight on shaking elbows. He coughed and to his dismay, crimson stained the stones beneath his bowed head. He might not be as good of a physician as Gaius, but Merlin knew that if he was coughing up blood, his injuries had to be quite severe. Even moving his eyes in their sockets hurt, but he pushed through the pain and brought his gaze up to see what the knights were fighting against– and apparently  _losing_ against, he thought, as Gwaine was launched to the opposite side of the room, not moving when his head cracked against the floor. When Merlin's eyes came into focus, he was looking upon one of the most horrifying creatures he had seen – and, having protected Arthur from all manner of creatures and evils, he'd seen his share of ugly, brutish, terrifying monsters. This, however, was scary of a whole new caliber.

The skin was a soft, spongy-looking greenish-gray, the body moving much too quickly and agilely for its huge size. It screeched as it attacked, long, deadly tentacles dancing around its brutish face. Merlin had never seen the likes of the creature looming over him and the fallen knights, but something was certainly familiar. Then he took a good look in its eyes.

It was the eyes, though, that made Merlin remember. Those glowing green eyes, narrowed in hatred or excitement – or a twisted combination of the two – he had seen them before. Looking over Percival's shoulder when the giant of a man had held the apparently irresistible Lamia in his bear-like arms. Lamia.

He had  _known_  that there was something wrong and evil about her. Somehow his being right in this case seemed a rather hollow occasion. He doubted that even saying "I told you so" – were the knights even conscious to hear it – would make him feel any better.

The knights. Lamia. More came to him, the yells of outrage, fists and feet flying, bashing into his side, head, face… The knights. The  _knights_  had done this to him. They had beat him for speaking out against Lamia. His current condition was the product of Leon, Percival, and Gwaine. His  _friends_  had done this. Merlin's breath hitched painfully in his throat as reality came to him and every cut, bruise, and speck of blood on his beaten body seemed to ache with a deeper hurt, so terrible that for a moment, he wished he could die. He knew that Lamia had caused his friends to turn on him, but this was more than just a simple betrayal, a few harsh words from a lovesick, enchanted group of men. They had very nearly killed Merlin – still might, if he didn't get some of this bleeding under control – and even though Merlin recognized that it wasn't their fault, not really, it still hurt. Like hell.

Something else nagged at the corner of Merlin's mind. Something important… Or  _someone_ important? There was a shriek of pain coming from behind him, the voice shrill but recognizable – Gwen. Merlin cursed his foggy, more than likely concussioned brain, not believing that he had managed to forget that Gwen was with them – and the only one who had not attacked Merlin, instead trying to pull the knights off of him when they had jumped him.

With a hiss of pain, Merlin managed to lever himself up to a semi-sitting position and turn himself around. He'd lost sight of Lamia for a few seconds, and when he had, she – it – had gone for the only person it hadn't harmed yet. Gwen. She was lying on the ground, face bruised, a sword clutched one of her white knuckled hands. The other hand was scrabbling desperately at the rocky ground, trying to find something to grab onto as Lamia pulled her closer with a powerful tentacle wrapped much too tightly around Gwen's ankle. As Merlin struggled to rise to his feet, Gwen had apparently reached the point where she knew struggling would do no good, so she hoisted herself up and slashed at the appendage holding her with the sword. She missed, and the weapon went scuttling across the room, but it had been a brave try nonetheless.

Finally, Merlin had stood, but Gwen was just feet away from the monster now and somehow Merlin knew that Lamia wouldn't be interested in playing with someone who didn't have magic like Merlin or wasn't infatuated with her, like the knights. Lamia was going for the kill.

There was only one option available, and as Merlin stood on shaky legs, watching as one of his closest friends was dragged to her death, he knew that he would take this path in a heartbeat. With a surge of magic rising instinctively inside of him, he let out a roar of words, one hand raised in Lamia's direction, and released the spell. For a moment, strength flooded his battered body and he stood tall and strong and powerful. The spell hit the beast with a mighty force and Merlin knew that Lamia was dying, if not already dead. She had misjudged Merlin and how powerful he was. She was probably regretting that right about now, but Merlin couldn't find the time to care as his strength had left him and he was sliding to the floor, exhausted. The pain covering his body burned even worse and all he wanted to do was sleep but he had to make sure that he had succeeded, that Gwen was free and the Lamia's spell broken for good.

As he watched, the monster went limp and Gwen, eyes wide and bright, struggled out of Lamia's grip. All around him, the knights began to come to, looking disoriented and confused. Merlin wondered if they'd remember what they'd done to him. Glancing desperately at Merlin, and anxiously looking at the knights, Gwen raised the sword above her head and drove it into Lamia's chest, making sure it was dead for good. The beast didn't even flinch and Merlin knew he had won – the Lamia was dead. But it had already wreaked so much harm…

Merlin felt his eyes begin to close as the pain throbbed through him. He coughed and blood splattered on the floor.  _S'not good,_ he reminded himself blearily. Just as he was about to pass out, he felt a gentle hand take his in his own. "Merlin, Merlin, can you hear me?"

Gwen's voice was terrified and shaking. She had put up such a brave front – not that it was an act because she really was brave – but now that the ordeal was over, Merlin knew that she had reached the end of her rope. She didn't know what to do.

Merlin opened his mouth to answer and at first no sound came out. He tried again. "You… 'kay?"

"Yes, thanks to you," Gwen said, and something warm splashed on his face. Her voice lowered to a whisper and even though his eyes were mostly closed, Merlin knew that she was leaning over him, hovering right next to his ear. "You have magic, Merlin."

It wasn't a question.

Merlin grunted, trying to muster the strength to explain himself. Instead, his head and stomach spun and he groaned as his concussion finally caught up to him. Surging up, he barely managed to turn his head away from Gwen's shoes before becoming violently ill. When he was done, the coppery taste of blood was even greater in his mouth. "S-sorry," he apologized, leaving Gwen to wonder if he was talking about being sick or having magic, or both.

"Merlin, we need to get you to Gaius."

"C-can't. T-too far." It wasn't for the knights, if he rode with one of them, but the very thought of Gwaine, Leon, or Percival so much as touching him right now sent chills of pure fear down his back. No, he'd rather die here than ride with one of them right now. It was too much, too soon. He couldn't handle it.

Gwen seemed to understand. "I tried to stop them Merlin, I…" She lifted a hand to her bruised cheek.

"Who hit you?" Merlin asked fiercely, trying to sit up. "Was it Lamia? Or one of the knights?"

"They weren't in control of themselves!" Gwen said desperately. "They didn't mean to hit me, anyway. They just pushed me away a little too hard. They were focused on you…"

"L-lucky m-m-me."

"You'll be alright, Merlin. I'll take care of you here and send the knights to fetch Arthur. You're not going to…" she trailed off.

"Arthur?" Gwaine's voice, for the first time in the time he had known the man, chilled Merlin to the bone. He froze as a pouf of fluffy brown hair, dirty and windblown but somehow still nice, appeared above him. "Bloody hell, Merlin, what happened to you…?" So he didn't remember. Merlin wondered if he ever would, or if Gwen would tell him. Any of them. "Gwen, Arthur, men, we've got to grab Elyan and then get Merlin to Camelot. Looks like he got the worst of it from the monster. He crouched down and moved to put his hand gently on his friend's shoulder, but Merlin squirmed away, hissing in pain.

Gwen's voice became hard and protective and she snapped at Gwaine, "Don't  _touch_  him!" Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Did you say Arthur?"

"He's here, Guinevere," Leon announced. "He's just arrived."

"What the hell happened here?" Arthur's voice boomed over the room. "Where's Elyan? And where's…?"

His voice trailed off and Merlin knew that he had probably just caught sight of Gwaine and Gwen crouching around his prone body on the floor. "Merlin?" Arthur's voice was uncertain as it grew closer. He felt Gwen move away from him and heard a sharp intake of breath from a new presence looming over him. Arthur. "What happened to him?" he demanded. Merlin couldn't find the energy to open his eyes but he waited to hear if Gwen would tell him the truth, but didn't have to, because Arthur didn't wait for an answer. His voice sounding very panicked and quite un-Arthurish, he yelled, "Gaius! Hurry, it's…"

He didn't finish, or maybe Merlin had finally given into unconsciousness. Whatever the case, within seconds Merlin had drifted into sleep and was gratefully spared the pain as his guardian examined him grimly. Unfortunately, another kind of torment was waiting for him, inside his own head, even in the bowels of unconsciousness.

The nightmares were just as painful as the wounds, with his  _friends_  tearing into him, hitting him, trying to  _kill_  him, and he was so deep inside of himself by this point that he couldn't wake up, couldn't even scream. He suffered in silence, while those gathered round him in the land of the living thought something along the lines of, "Well, at least he's not in pain anymore."

Irony can be cruel indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

They stayed at the abandoned castle for three days. Arthur had wanted to take Merlin and Elyan back to Camelot as soon as possible, insisting that Gaius would have the supplies to take much better care of them there than in an old, decrepit, dirty castle with naught but his and Merlin's medical bags. He had come to look at a mysterious illness and Arthur didn't think that he was very prepared to take care of a patient that had been beaten half to death. Gaius, however, had simply given Arthur one of those looks, the wizened, slightly exasperated glare that could make even the king of Camelot feel sheepish, and informed him in the most respectful way possible that Arthur was a king, not a physician, and to go help the knights set up camp now, please and thank you.

Arthur had obeyed without another word. If Merlin had been awake to see the exchange, he would have undoubtedly smirked in amusement. As it was, though, he hadn't stirred other than to wince when Gaius had probed a particularly sore spot.

When Arthur had returned from helping the knights – the whole lot of them oddly withdrawn, but the king hadn't the time or interest to ask them why just then – and getting a weak but now awake Elyan set up by the newly lit fire, Gaius had informed the king that while yes, he was better prepared to treat Merlin's injuries back in Camelot, he was too afraid to move the boy any great distance right now. He might not make it through the trip, and that was something Gaius was  _not_  willing to risk. Arthur had immediately concurred before shooting Gaius's beaten patient a soft, worried look and wandering off to comfort Guinevere, who was obviously more shaken by what had happened. Arthur had been determined to find out what that was, exactly, but Gwen had been too upset to talk about it.

Two and a half days later, and she still hadn't told Arthur exactly how Merlin had come to be in his condition. He had assumed, of course, that the giant, ugly beast that Gaius had identified as a _Lamia_  had had something to do with it, but when asked about the details, Gwen pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned white and her eyes overflowed with tears. Arthur had thought about going to one of the knights – still unusually solemn and, oddly enough, avoiding Merlin unless absolutely forced to interact with his unconscious form – but something in their eyes, each and every one of their eyes, save for Elyan's, made him almost afraid to ask. So for the time being, he indulged himself in a bit of cowardice, because whatever had happened had been bad –  _really_  bad – and Arthur wasn't sure if he was ready to face that yet.

On the third day at the castle, Gaius had finally proclaimed that Merlin had to be taken back to Camelot. Arthur wasn't sure how the physician could tell as much, considering that Merlin hadn't woken and only stirred when in pain or the throes of a nightmare. His face was still deathly pale, the bruises even uglier than they had been before, the few broken ribs bandaged tightly, a splintered wrist set as best as Gaius had been able. Merlin still coughed up small amounts of blood every so often but Gaius said that he wasn't bleeding inside as far as he could tell. Merlin's face was still swollen and almost unrecognizable, and he groaned or winced in pain every time anyone touched him. Gaius  _had_ managed to coax a semi-alert Merlin to swallow a few lumps of bread and water so he wasn't starving, at least, but he looked skinnier than ever.

Arthur demanded to know how Gaius could tell Merlin was better, fully expecting a snappy little remark or a pointed look like last time, but the doctor had simply sighed and said, "His physical injuries are healing as well as can be expected, Sire, but I need to get him to Camelot for another reason." He prompted Arthur to place his warm hand on Merlin's sweating brow and Arthur was appalled to feel the unhealthy heat lingering there.

"He's running a fever, Arthur, and I fear that staying here with him at this point could be just as dangerous as trying to get him back home. I can only hope that his injuries themselves have healed enough so as not to threaten his life on the trek back."

None of the knights offered to help carry Merlin to their horse and let him ride with them, not even Gwaine, which Arthur found  _very_  surprising. He didn't mind all that much, though, because he wanted his friend where he could see him at all times. Even if Gwaine had offered to let Merlin ride with him, Arthur would have turned him down. He had been the one to allow Merlin to go on this trip as acting physician; it was his fault that Merlin was near death. Arthur wasn't going to rest well until Merlin was back in Camelot, where he was meant to be, safe and healthy once more. Goodness, how Arthur missed that idiot. It had been almost a week since he had heard that inane prattle and Arthur swore he had never missed it so much.

As he had gently lifted Merlin onto his horse so he was propped against his master – Gaius said it was too dangerous to lay him over the horse like they'd done after the Dorocha attack all those months ago – Arthur had had to quickly blink his eyes and duck his head as he thought about life without the stupid, wise, obnoxious, loyal servant. Seven years, he'd been by Arthur's side. And for what? To die on a journey that Arthur had agreed to send him on, a simple quest to save lives that would ultimately take his own? No. Arthur couldn't accept it.

He wondered if Gaius felt guilty like he did. The physician had been the one to suggest Merlin taking his place at first. Arthur glanced over to his left side, trying to glean any information from the wrinkled, stoic face of his court physician, but only saw raw determination in the steely eyes that looked only ahead.

The knights rode behind them, silent and weary, with Gwen at Arthur's other side. She didn't speak, only alternated between glaring feverishly at the ground and glancing worriedly at Merlin. Arthur tried to comfort her but couldn't find the words. Once, about two hours into the trip, he tried to start a conversation with Sirs Gwaine and Percival. All he'd gotten in response were one-word, monotone answers and a couple of melancholy looks that one would expect on a restless spirit rather than a man, and a knight of Camelot, no less.

Arthur decided that they felt guilty because they had been unable to stop the Lamia when it had nearly killed Merlin. They had just been waking up from being knocked out when Arthur arrived; there had been nothing they could have done. He was sure, believed with all his heart, that his knights had done the right and honorable thing and had defended Merlin and Gwen against the monster with every ounce of strength. None of this was their fault, and Arthur made a point to tell them this when Merlin was better and he could breathe again.

Arthur knew that it wasn't the knights' fault for Merlin's conditions, but because of his own poor judgment. It wasn't right for them to blame themselves. Arthur didn't and he was sure that Merlin didn't either. It wasn't their fault.

* * *

As soon as they arrived back in Camelot, later than planned since they had had to stop and take care of Merlin and set up camp multiple times during the journey, Arthur carried Merlin to the physician's chambers, Gaius and Gwen trailing behind. Merlin's skin was warm, radiating even through the boy's thin clothes, and he grunted with every exhausted footfall of the king. If anyone in the city thought it odd to see their king carrying a mere servant to Gaius's chambers himself, rather than having a knight or soldier to it, they said nothing.

The people of Camelot knew that their king was different than most royals and even those who disapproved, like the greasy-haired lord lurking like a large bat in an alcove outside of Gaius's quarters, didn't dare protest when they saw Merlin's state and the look of grim determination on his master's face. There were some lines even the great Lord Agravaine knew not to cross.

* * *

_He was on the ground, the cold stones reaching through his tattered shirt and chilling his skin. His whole body was alive with pain, with new bruises and cuts with every moment that passed. He screamed, he twisted, he tried to get away…_

_"Stop struggling, Merlin," said an all-too familiar voice, once kind and joking, but now dark and laced with sarcasm. "You'll only make it worse."_

_Sir Leon's voice chimed in with Gwaine's. "Yes,_ servant _, we're merely teaching. You. A. Lesson." Each of the last four words was emphasized with a kick._

_"You're nothing, Merlin," Percival added. "You tag along like some sort of pathetic, lost puppy, thinking you can make us give you scraps of attention by flashing your pitiful blue eyes… you're pitiful, alright, Merlin. Pathetic. Nothing. Useless. Worthless."_

_"Arthur deserves a better servant."_

_"You will_ never _be one of us."_

_"You're a waste of space."_

_"Learn your place."_

_The taunts went on and on, and so did the pain, and finally Merlin couldn't take it any longer. He forced his bloody lips apart and screamed…_

* * *

"STOOOOP!" The scream, raw with fear and emotion, rent from Merlin's throat which was sore from disuse. He struggled but something was still holding him down. "P-please," he managed to whimper before something was pressed to his lips and a cold liquid forced down his throat. "D-don't," he said weakly as whatever he'd been given began to kick in. "'M your… -our, yo-our f-friend."

And he was forced back into his sleeping hell by a potion given with good intentions but terrible implications.

* * *

Gaius exchanged a worried look with Arthur, who had just finished tending to some business with the court and had come right back to check on Merlin. "He's hysterical; I had to put him to sleep. Maybe he'll be more coherent when he next wakes."

"At least he looks peaceful when he sleeps," Arthur sighed, brow creased.

"Mmm," said Gaius, hoping that he had made the right choice.

"What did he mean, 'I'm your friend'?" Arthur wondered, an uneasy pit beginning to grow in his gut.

Gaius looked troubled for a few moments before answering, "I don't know, Sire."

They went back to their silent vigil.

* * *

"We should check on Merlin," Elyan said for the umpteenth time since the weary group had returned to Camelot. "The creature nearly killed him and he needs his friends around him."

Leon looked like he was going to cry for a few seconds before regaining his composure. "No," he said softly. "I'm not sure he does."

"What are you on about?" Elyan demanded. "Whatever it is that has been eating at you can wait; this is  _Merlin_! He's done so much for us  _all_  and we aren't even going to visit him?"

Gwaine clapped a heavy hand on Elyan's shoulder, and there really was a tear trickling down his cheek. "Go see him, Elyan. Give him a hug for me, tell him he sure as hell better get well and don't even think about dying on us. Tell—" his voice choked, "Just tell him…" He turned away, unable to finish.

The look of anguish existed on Percival's face as well as Leon's and Gwaine's.

"Whatever it is, just tell him yourself!" Elyan snapped, exasperated.

"We can't," Percival said. "Oh, good lord, we can't, not after…"

"When I snapped out of it," Leon said slowly, "I prayed it was just a dream, but… it can't have been. It happened and we can't see Merlin again. When Arthur finds out…"

"Don't tell him," said Gwaine. "Not yet. He doesn't need to know everything yet, it'll just break him even more. We can't put him under that kind of strain."

"Agreed," said Percival, looking positively miserable.

"What are you talking about?" Elyan cried, obviously out of the loop and wanting to get in, unaware that as soon as he was let into the secret, he'd just want right back out.

The others were saved from answering right away because there was a loud knock at the door. A terse, quick, determined knock, slow and measured. The kind of knock that meant the person on the other side of the door was angry, forcibly calm, and a heartbeat away from unleashing all hell on those beyond the wood.

"That'll be Gwen," Percival said lamely.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Gwaine said morosely, like he was about to die. "And we deserve it. And more."

"Come in." Leon's words were weak and his voice guilt-ridden.

The person took no time in opening the door and striding inside. Elyan saw the silhouette of his sister, every curly strand of her hair standing out and glistening in the setting sun shining into the window of Gwaine's room. Elyan had always thought of Gwen as fragile and needing to be taking care of, but in that moment, seeing her face and stance, the feral anger in her eyes, he was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of that glare.

"Hello, Sirs Gwaine, Percival, Leon," she said, "I think we need to talk."


	4. Chapter 4

"Guinevere." Leon's voice was shaking, his eyes hesitant and ashamed. The rest of the knights assembled looked at their respective shoes with seemingly great interest and mumbled sincere but barely discernible greetings. "I would ask you what brings you here, but…"

"You know perfectly well what brought me here, Sir Leon," Gwen said, her voice barely barley restraining her anger. Her lips were white with fury, her eyes filled with tears, and her hands clenched in fists. Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she began to speak. "I don't know exactly what that  _creature_  did to you, but  _whatever_  it was, no matter if you were enchanted or not, you all do realize that you went  _much too far_ , don't you? Because not only did you treat Merlin and I as if we were hardly people at all, but you  _hurt_  him … in more ways than one."

"Don't you think we know that, Gwen?" Gwaine piped up, the tormented look on his normally carefree face nearly making the girl lose her drive for a moment. "Merlin is… was… my best friend. We've risked our lives for one another more times that I can tell you. Merlin showed me that there's more to life than skipping from town to town, tavern to tavern. Through his friendship and devotion, he showed me – all of us – that you can always be going somewhere new, but never actually get anywhere at all. He's a better man than me, always has been always will be. I will  _never_  forgive myself for what I did."

Gwen's furious face softened just a fraction. "And do you think beating yourselves up about what happened is going to make this any better?"

"What are you all talking about?" Elyan asked, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

Everyone ignored him and Leon spoke up. "I, too, feel terrible about what we did, but we  _were_ enchanted. Lamia had a hold on us; we didn't know ourselves."

Gwen took another deep breath. "Maybe not. But look at what you're doing in the aftermath of your betrayal! Hiding away in Gwaine's chambers, afraid to tell Arthur about your part in all of this? Trying to pretend it never happened, wishing this hell away, hoping and pretending it was just a dream?" She looked pointedly at Leon, who had previously mentioned that he wished it had been a nightmare. To his credit, Leon hung his head, ashamed.

"With all due respect to the king," Percival spoke up, "it isn't  _Arthur_  that we are unwilling to face."

"Even worse. Because who knows what's happening inside of Merlin's head right now because of you! I dare say that he is terrified that his friends hate him, that he is all alone. He's hurt badly and the same 'friends' that beat him to a pulp aren't even man enough to leave their hiding hole and check on him, least of all, apologize! Even though Lamia had you in her grasp, you still did everything you remember. That wasn't your will, but it wasn't Lamia's fists. You  _all_  have responsibility in this, enchanted or not, and Merlin deserves for you to face your fears and go see him! Doesn't he?"

The four men in the room stared at the young woman who had addressed them all with passion in her heart and fire in her voice. Gwen had never been one to be afraid to speaking her mind, but this was the most blunt any of them had heard her sound. She was like a mother bear defending her cub and in this case, the cub was her best friend, Merlin. Tears now running down her cheeks, she added, "I had to  _watch_  as you, some of Merlin's closest friends, tore into him with your words and kicks and fists. All the while, Lamia smiled, and I knew you didn't really have control over what had happened. But you  _do_ have control over what you do next. Think about it, because if you wait too long to show your faces, any chance of redemption may be long gone…"

"Wait," Elyan finally found his voice again. "You're not saying that you… you all…"

"We told you that you didn't want to know, mate," Gwaine said softly. "It was Lamia controlling our minds, but I should have fought back harder. Should have impaled myself on my sword rather than hurt Merlin."

There were several seconds of the tensest silence any of them had ever experienced. Then –

"Will you tell Arthur?" It was Percival and his voice was grave.

"No," Gwen decided, her eyes steely, "because it is not my place to do so. You have to make the decisions for yourselves. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go see how Merlin is doing."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked slowly out of the room, her shoes clicking against the stone floor with every step. Only when she was outside of the knight's chamber with the door shut behind her did she allow herself to slide down into a sitting position against the wall, bury her face in her hands, and cry.

* * *

Merlin had woken up two more times during the next six hours. Both times he had been distressed, tried to say something, and had been put under by a frazzled Gaius that was only doing what he knew to be best. He hoped that Merlin would sweat the fever away and though the warmth  _did_  seem to recede as the hours passed, Merlin's dreams seemed to become more agitated. His eyes flickered almost constantly behind their lids, his face contorted in alternating forms of terror and deep sadness and pain.

The next time that he woke up, Arthur had been coaxed to his room to get some sleep with the promise that any change, good or bad, in his servant would be reported to him immediately. Gwen had taken his place at Gaius's side and despite it being obvious that she knew more than she said, nothing Gaius said could convince her to tell the physician exactly  _who_  did this to him, although he had a good idea who it might have been himself.

Merlin's eyes flickered open slowly and he groaned. "It has been relatively easy to get him to eat and drink in the brief time he is awake," Gaius said softly to Gwen. "Will you fetch some bread and water before we put him back under? The resting seems to be doing wonders for his fever."

Gwen nodded and hurried out of the physician's room. Gaius picked up a cold cloth that had been soaking in a nearby bucket and pressed it soothingly to his ward's sweaty brow. "It's alright, Merlin," the old doctor soothed as he guided the rag to stroke Merlin's forehead softly. "We'll give you some food and then you can go back to sleep."

Merlin's mouth opened and he managed to choke out, "No."

"No, what? Merlin?"

Gwen returned with the food and water and Gaius took the drink, pressing the cup to Merlin's lips and smiling thinly at the speed Merlin gulped down the refreshing drink. "Easy, Merlin, not too much…"

As soon as Gaius had taken the water away and was going for the bread, Merlin took his opportunity and found his voice, weak and pitiful as it was. "I am not going b-back to sleep," he insisted. "Dreams… It hurts."

Gaius simply nodded, not sure what his ward was on about and said, "I know it hurts, lad, and that is why I'll put you back to sleep. You won't be able to feel the pain."

"You're wr-wrong," Merlin choked out from behind a small piece of bread. "Over and over, in m-my head, sleep ma-makes it worse."

Gaius's heart drooped. Had he been making Merlin's suffering worse by forcing him to sleep? Was the pain and terror on Merlin's face due partially to his own ignorance? Had his intolerance of seeing Merlin's pain caused his judgment to be clouded when it came to what was really best for his ward. Looking at Merlin's face now, noting that he looked even more tired, with darker bags under his eyes, than he had before he'd been sleeping, Gaius acquiesced to Merlin's request to stay awake for a bit.

"Alright, my boy. You don't have to sleep."

Fifteen minutes later, despite his brave attempts to stay alert, Merlin had dropped into a light, natural sleep, but this time, he didn't stir or seem agitated like he had before. Gaius hoped that getting some natural sleep would be a start to his recovery.

Half an hour later, he decided that he should go to Arthur's chambers and tell the king that Merlin seemed to be getting some better – no more nightmares, as far as the physician could tell – because the king had insisted on knowing any change. Gwen was left to tend to Merlin. Just as Gaius reached Arthur's door, there was a loud shout from inside, a yelp, and a crash. Gaius stepped back as the door swung open and Sir Leon stumbled out, a fresh bruise sprouting on his chin. Gwaine and Percival followed, faces grave, and Arthur was the last out of the room, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Sire, what happened?" Gaius asked as the king strode past the knights toward the physician's quarters.

"I need to talk to Merlin when he wakes," Arthur said curtly. "As for what's happening, I suggest you ask Sir Leon and the others about that."

Gaius sighed, his dreaded suspicions confirmed. "So it's true," he said gravely. The Lamia took control of your minds, causing you to strike out at Merlin when he dared to contradict you."

"We're so sorry, Gaius," Gwaine managed to say. "If we could have—"

"Don't," said Gaius sternly, "for it is not to I whom you should beg forgiveness. You know that Merlin is a kind soul and that he will not hold what you did against your will against you. But if you continue to avoid him, he'll believe you meant it and he cannot afford that kind of mental stress right now. It would only make him worse."

"But won't seeing the ones who… attacked… him be just as bad?" Percival asked, head bowed in shame.

"Not if those who attacked him come to him in peace, one at a time, to apologize. Seeing the caring on your faces, you proving to him that you didn't mean to hurt him, will do him more good than harm, I am sure. But before you do anything, you have to come to terms with what you have done and begin to forgive yourselves. Now," he changed to a bit of a lighter tone, "It's growing late and if you are going to talk to my patient, it best be tomorrow after he wakes. And Leon? About your bruise, my only advice is not to stand within striking distance of the king when you tell him that you attacked his friend." Gaius didn't add that he wished he were taller and stronger so that he could take a little of his well-concealed anger out on those repenting faces, too. Instantly, he berated himself. He knew that Merlin would eventually forgive them, and that if Merlin could accept their apologies, so could he.

With a heavy heart and laden mind, Gaius shuffled off to check on his beloved ward, leaving a small band of grief-ridden knights in his wake.

He knew Arthur wasn't finished with them by a long shot and that gruelingly long training sessions would be the least of their punishments, and maybe in the morning, the old physician could find it in his heart to try and tell Arthur that it wasn't really their fault, that they had been possessed. For now, though, he allowed his worry for Merlin to turn into rare anger and decided he wouldn't try to convince the king of anything tonight.

Mercy would come in the morning, with the hope of a new beginning. Tonight, however, in all corners of the castle, emotions would rule on high, hating and crying and loving and fearing, with a mere servant, Merlin, at the center of it all.


	5. Chapter 5

The first time Merlin woke up, it was to someone murmuring something softly and stroking his head with a cold cloth. He was disjointed and confused, but when his blurred vision cleared up somewhat to reveal Guinevere's worried face looming over him, everything came together pretty quickly. The ailing village, the journey, Lamia, the knights, and Guinevere – Merlin's heart sped up in anxiety as he remembered. Gwen had seen him do magic; she knew the truth!

He opened his mouth to speak, to try to explain, but Gwen would have none of that. She tutted softly, once more pressing a newly wetted cloth to his forehead. "Don't try to talk, you need to rest," she said.

"B-but you… you s-saw—" he managed to choke out past his swollen lips.

Gwen gave him an almost coy smile and a conspiring wink. "I don't know  _what_  you're talking about, Merlin. You're obviously delusional. And even if I  _did_  see anything, I think it's safe to say that after everything you've been through for Arthur and the rest of Camelot, that I can trust you."

Merlin clung to her words, his mind still trying to wrap around the notion that Gwen had accepted his magic, and even though there was sure to be some questions and explaining later, she  _trusted_  him.

Before he could fully comprehend how lucky he was to have a friend like Guinevere, he had fallen back to sleep.

* * *

The next time he opened his eyes, it was to a less delicate but perhaps more apprehensive face in his field of vision. "Gaius," said Arthur's voice, sounding tired and strained. "I think he's awake. What should I do? Should I poke him?"

Gaius's voice sounded from somewhere across the room. "Why on  _earth_  would you do that?"

Arthur's brow knit as Merlin blinked up at him, his head still swimming and not quite sure if he was dreaming or not. "Well, he's just… looking at me. I suppose it's a good sign, but it's a bit unnerving; is it… normal?"

Gaius's face entered Merlin's line of sight, worry and relief warring for dominance on his face. "Ah," he said, "Not to worry. He's just drifting in and…"

* * *

The third time Merlin woke up, he was more or less properly awake. He yawned, gasping in pain as he moved his jaw, which felt like someone had taken a hammer to it… or a fist. He shuddered as his memories of the Lamia encounter returned to him, mingling with the horrific nightmares that he had experienced. Suddenly not sure which was real and what was dream, he scrambled for a firm hold on his blankets, needing  _something_  to keep him grounded here, in the present, not stranded in those terrible memories.

"Merlin."

He nearly jumped out of his skin as someone said his name. Groaning, he shifted his head so that he was looking in the direction that the familiar voice had come from, noting at the same time that every inch of his body felt like it had been bruised or cut in some way. Once his vision had cleared from the pain-induced spots, he managed to focus on Arthur who was sitting by his bed looking pleased and a bit bored.

"Ar…" Merlin tried to speak but he couldn't seem to get the words past his dry throat, let alone his aching tongue and lips.

Arthur grabbed a cup of water and helped Merlin drink a few sips, not saying a word as Merlin struggled to make even the simplest of movements, and Merlin was very grateful. When he could speak again, he was going to say something clever or funny or maybe even deep and profound to his friend and master, but instead he said, "You were going to poke me."

Arthur looked surprised and maybe even a bit sheepish for the smallest of moments before scoffing and saying in his kingly-let's-tease-Merlin voice, " _No_ , but I seriously thought about it. I didn't know what to do; you were just…" He broke off, his joking tone ceasing. Merlin could tell that he was struggling with something, trying to make sense of everything that happened. It was one of those rare moments when his stoic façade couldn't hide everything. What had happened to his servant had shaken him up more than the king cared to admit; the way he kept glancing non-too-subtly at Merlin, almost as if assuring himself that his friend was there and alive, was evidence of that.

Trying to get Arthur's mind away from whatever melancholy road it was taking, Merlin finally managed to find something somewhat clever to say. "Don't you have a kingdom to run or something?"

Arthur snorted, but his smile, however small, was genuine. "Like I'd need  _your_  advice on how to do my job," he said, his eyes glimmering with a hint of mirth. "Although I've got a bit to say about how  _your_  duties have been lately, considering you haven't been in to work in six days!"

Merlin gaped. "six days? It's been six…" He trailed off. "Really?"

Arthur nodded, solemn again. "Yes. When Gaius and I found you, he treated you there and we stayed there for three days. It took us about a day to get back to Camelot, and you've pretty much been out since then. Gaius… he said it didn't look good for a while there, because you had a fever, but it went down. No infection, and he said the, er, blood you coughed up was from where you bit your tongue so… no internal injuries, at least. And you have a broken wrist, some broken ribs, and you're pretty much a walking bruise... well, you will be, whenever you're up and about again." Arthur's voice was straining to remain light but Merlin could tell that he was having just about as hard of a time dealing with this as Merlin was taking it in.

Merlin managed to smirk, trying to keep the atmosphere in the room as light as possible. "You're sounding like a regular physician, now, Arthur. Going to train under Gaius now?"

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "No, thank you. I think I've had enough of his potion-making for a lifetime while I've been down here. You won't  _believe_  some of the stuff he puts in there; it's disgusting; you'd better be glad I'm not going to tell you what he's given you this week…"

Merlin rolled his eyes and winced. "Yeah, I can only imagine."

There was a pregnant pause while both men became somber. Merlin winced again as his whole body seemed to pound in agony. He was about to speak again when Arthur beat him to it.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Merlin's breath hitched as he tried desperately not to think about it. "Where's Gaius?" he asked, hoping to change the subject. He didn't want Arthur to find out what had really happened because really, it wasn't the knights' fault. Sure, their attack on him had felt as real as if they had been doing it of their own free will and it had  _hurt_ , emotionally nearly as much as physically, but it wasn't their doing. Not  _really_ , though he did wonder if anything they had said or done had been prompted by a sliver of truth. He decided not to dwell on it.

Arthur wasn't fooled by Merlin's ploy. "He went to get some more ingredients to help with the pain," the king said. "And I'm sorry Merlin, but I have to ask. Do you remember?"

Merlin sighed and due to his broken ribs he felt like his chest was caving in. "Yes. But Arthur—"

Arthur's mouth was pressed into a thin line. "I already know, Merlin. Leon, Gwaine, and Percival paid me a visit last night. They told me the truth." Arthur's eyes were blazing.

Merlin's heart dropped. He'd hoped to ease Arthur into it, not wanting his friends to get into trouble for what wasn't really their fault. "Arthur, you have to listen to me. It wasn't them, not really, it was—"

"The Lamia, yes, I know," Arthur said testily. "I've already talked to Gaius about it." He chuckled darkly. "I think Gaius might've given the knights a piece of his mind as well when he found out, but later he said it was just the injustice of what had happened to you talking. He said even though it is hard to forgive them, he knew that they weren't acting of their own free will and wasn't going to hold them responsible any longer."

Merlin frowned. "And you… disagree?"

Arthur fumed. "They went  _too far_ , Merlin! They damn near  _killed_  you! Do you expect me to just give them a rap on the knuckles and tell them not to do it again? No matter what causes them, actions have consequences. I can't just let them get away with what they did."

Merlin felt tears pushing at the backs of his eyes because he understood how Arthur was feeling; it was unfair, he was hurt, and it hurt more than anything to know that the hands of his friends had inflicted this pain. He knew, though, that though their hands had acted, their minds had not been their own and he truly didn't blame his friends and didn't want them to blame themselves. "Arthur, when your father was enchanted by, er, Lady Catrina—" Merlin wasn't sure how safe it was to bring up Arthur's late father, especially when it came to his brief and horrifying marriage to a hideous troll, but Arthur just raised an eyebrow and waited for Merlin to continue, "—you didn't hold him responsible for the things he said or did to hurt you, did you? You didn't hate him for being controlled by an outside force."

"But it's not the same—"

"No, it's not," Merlin conceded. "The Lamia had ten times the power that the troll did. She took their minds and poisoned them against me, turning them into shells of themselves. They had  _no_ control of their actions."

Arthur looked at his friend for a long moment before contemplating, "I can never tell with you, Merlin – are you really as wise as you like to make me believe sometimes, or are you just gushing out nonsense and hoping that something you say makes sense?"

Merlin snorted. "Whichever makes you feel more comfortable, sire."

Arthur smirked. "Idiot."

"Cabbage-head."

"That's a stupid name."

"That's why I gave it to you, sire."

And Merlin knew that for once it was lucky that he was laid up in bed and bruised to no end, because even Arthur wouldn't throw something at him in this state. Mind you, he'd have to watch his step when he went back to work, but for the time being, he was content to lie back and watch Arthur stew.

* * *

Gwaine was the first that came to see him.

After three days in bed, Merlin had begun to eat more bland but solid food and had regained a bit of strength back. He was still in pain but able to walk around a bit with someone's help and his bruises had nearly faded. His ribs were still insanely tender and his wrist was of no use to him, but he was coming along rather nicely and that was when Gaius had deemed him well enough to have visitors besides the king who came by every evening after council to check on his servant. Each time he visited, it was under the guise of seeing if Merlin would be back and ready for work the next day, but each time when he left, he muttered to Gaius to not let Merlin try to get up on his own because heaven help him, Merlin was  _actually_  going to recover without any delays.

Merlin had been nervous about seeing his friends because even though he didn't blame them, the thought of being near them sent unwanted shivers down his spine. A small part of him was afraid that some of the Lamia's power still lingered, or that his nightmares had been the reality and they hated him… But he knew that was ridiculous. He had steeled himself for a difficult and probably emotionally taxing confrontation but had nodded emphatically when asked if he was _sure_  he was ready for this.

"Merlin," said Gwaine, his eyes locked onto his friend's. His amber gaze was anguished and Merlin knew that he had been beating himself up about what had happened since he had realized what the Lamia had made them do. "I swear to you, I have  _never_  been so sorry for anything in my entire life." Merlin felt that this might be a little over the top and he wanted to cut Gwaine off with a serious "it's not your fault, I don't blame you," but he knew that Gwaine needed to do this, so he let him speak.

"The thought of me actually  _hurting_  you, I… you were my first true friend and you've  _always_ been loyal to me. I owe you my life, my friend, and I repaid you by nearly killing you. I know you'll never be able to forgive me, but I… I just wanted you to know. And if you want me to leave Camelot, I—"

Here, Merlin felt it was past the point where he could cut his friend off and did so without any guilt whatsoever. "Gwaine. I don't want you, or Leon or Percival, to leave, so just… don't say it. You're my friend and I know it wasn't your fault."

"But I—"

"No,  _Lamia_  infected your mind. You didn't do anything."

"I could have fought against her, stopped myself."

Merlin shook his head. "I've been reading up on Lamias. There's never been a case of a normal, mortal man breaking free from her hold. I don't know why she went for you all and had you gang up on me, but it was  _not_  your doing. In fact, even if you  _had_  managed to ward her off for a minute or two, the effort would have probably fried your brain. Gwaine, she was a creature of infinite magic and power; you had no control."

Gwaine still looked like he couldn't believe what was being said, almost like he  _wanted_  Merlin to be angry and yell at him. Merlin sighed. "I know you feel guilty, Gwaine, and I know that if she had used me, I would as well. But you've got to find a way to get past it, realize that you were not acting under your own volition, and that it's over, I forgive you, and you need to forgive yourself. And you better not leave Camelot, my friend, because I've already lost Lancelot and I don't want to lose you all, too."

Gwaine had looked like he was about to burst into tears as he stood up, clapped Merlin warmly and gently on the shoulder, and walked out, letting Percival know that it was his turn.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Merlin," said the normally quiet Percival. "I know Lamia had ahold of my mind, but still, you need to know that I meant nothing I did or said. I've only been in Camelot for a little over a year, but I know that you're a good man and friend and that hurting you was an act that cannot be easily forgiven."

Merlin grinned. "Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you say that many words at the same time before," he said. "What was that, like thirty?"

Percival couldn't help but smile along with him, knowing without it having to be said that Merlin forgave him; didn't even blame him, but Merlin, being Merlin, said it anyway.

"It's not your fault and I don't blame you, but if it'll make you feel better, I forgive you."

* * *

It was harder facing Leon than Gwaine or Percival. True, Gwaine was his closest friend out of the three, but that just made it easier for Merlin to know that none of what happened was him. Merlin felt more comfortable being himself around Percival as well, and even though he considered Leon a friend, he didn't know the older knight as well as the others.

Also, Leon had done most of the talking and had said some cutting things to Merlin, who couldn't help but wonder if any of them were grounded in truth. When the knight came in, head bowed and bruise on his face, Merlin said, "Arthur told me what happened."

Leon chuckled nervously. "Yeah, well, I deserved it."

Merlin shook his head. "Nah, it wasn't you."  _Was it?_  Part of him wondered if Leon did just view him as nothing but a bothersome servant, but it wasn't something he wanted to voice; he wanted to believe that everything had been the Lamia.

Leon shook his head. "Merlin, you are more loyal to Arthur than any servant. You are a good man, and you have proven to be a true friend and have helped our crowned prince become the king he is today. Anything that I said was entirely the Lamia. I haven't been around you as much as Sir Gwaine, but I still consider you to be a valued friend and want to apologize for what I did. I never, ever wished you any harm."

Merlin felt like a great weight had been lifted from his chest. "I forgive you."

* * *

"Just like that?" said Arthur after the three knights had left. Merlin had laid down once more, having sat up for most of his visits, and was about to drift off to sleep again. Even though he was much better, he still needed some rest to heal and the visits had worn him out, but Gaius had promised that he'd be allowed to return to work – with no heavy lifting or two-handed jobs, mind you – within the week. Arthur had popped by before he went to a meeting of some sort, just to see how things had gone, and had been a bit surprised at the ease that Merlin had forgiven his friends.

Merlin nodded sleepily. "Yeah. Just like that. I told you Arthur, it wasn't them."

Arthur sighed. "Yes, so you've said. And I've talked to them, let them know that since you're alright and will be back to polishing my armor soon, that I have no grudge against them, either. But for their sake – and yours – nothing like this had better happen again."

Merlin grinned tiredly. "You've  _so_  been worrying about me," he teased, knowing the king would deny it to no end.

True to form, Arthur snorted derisively and said, "Me? Worry about you?  _Please_ , Merlin, even by your standards, that's just a bit  _too far_!"


End file.
